Leah's Happy Ending
by MarbleGlove
Summary: Everyone knew that Bran had only married Leah because she was too stupid and petty for him to ever run the risk of falling in love with her. No one thought about how Leah herself must feel that knowledge like a constant insult. No one deserves that kind of abuse.
1. Leah's Happy Ending

_Summary: Everyone knew that Bran had only married Leah because she was too stupid and petty for him to ever run the risk of falling in love with her. No one thought about how Leah herself must feel that knowledge like a constant insult. No one deserves that kind of abuse._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own the Mercy Thompson universe, which is probably all to the good._

 _A/N: thanks to my sister for her lovely beta reading services. Any mistakes remain my own silly fault._

* * *

 **Leah's Happy Ending**

* * *

Leah sat at the desk in her home office and let herself finally acknowledge the truth: she was drowning.

She'd been the Marrok's mate and wife for nearly two centuries. They had an arrangement and while she'd never been particularly happy, she'd been content. At least her husband didn't beat her like her sister's husband, or installed a series of mistresses in various houses around the estate like her father.

She'd married Bran when the Marrok pack had still been just a dream and moved with him during the Gold rush into the Washington territories before it had even become Montana territories. She'd made a home for him and his dream and kept him stable in a way that even his beloved sons couldn't.

She had been so happy to marry him when he had first offered.

The attack that made her a werewolf had been fully intentional, although she never learned what exactly had instigated it. It could have been intended to threaten her father, one of the pillars of their local society. Alternately, it could have been an attack on the territory of the local werewolf alpha, Jeremiah Folsom. It didn't even matter, really, as she struggled to deal with the fear and the scars and the overarching need to lash out and kill and run and howl. What mattered was that neither her father nor Mr. Folsom could definitively prove the motive, so after she managed to survive the physical attack, she was also able to survive the disapproval of the two men who had claim to her. Her father and Mr. Folsom fought with each other over their right to her, each blaming the other for her condition, and she wound up protected in the calm eye at the center of their clashing wills.

Mr. Folsom taught her how to control her wolf and be a werewolf. He wouldn't let her father have her sent away to an asylum or confined in the house. Every month, she was even allowed to leave the estate in order to run and fight and release her anger.

Her father kept her on his lands for the rest of the month, though, and away from the pack of male werewolves who knew that she could never get pregnant nor show any signs of injury a day later. The alpha had violated her to demonstrate that he could, that she was his, but no one else was allowed to.

She knew she was always a pawn to her father and the alpha, but neither she nor they had known what to do about her. She was too upper-class to join the werewolf pack as one of their women, but she could never marry now. Not only was she now a werewolf and spoiled goods, she was also barren, like all female werewolves. No one, not even a werewolf man, wanted a barren wife.

Mr. Folsom himself was not high society and couldn't afford to publicly offend her father or his compatriots by flaunting the fact that he had ruined a wealthy white woman. Her father couldn't marry her off because while few people knew the details, everyone knew she was somehow damaged.

She knew that she was an aging spinster with no hopes of her own household. She could only hope that one of her younger brothers might remain a bachelor and allow her to be his hostess.

Her father was a smart man, though. She should have known he had another plan for her. He must have gotten Mr. Folsom to agree to it, too, and even help, because she wasn't sure how else her father could have found a werewolf widower who was respectable enough (or at least wealthy enough and living far enough away) to be a suitor for his daughter.

Mr. Bran Cornick looked much more pleasant than she had been expecting given that Mr. Folsom said he was a powerful werewolf worth currying favor, and her father had told her that she would agree to marry the man and move to the Washington Territories with him when he left.

Mr. Cornick was a sweet looking man, although that was no way to judge how he'd treat a wife. Looks could be deceiving and certainly were, since he also looked much too young to have full grown sons.

But he was also sweet when he met her. He had asked her and her father's permission to speak privately with her in the garden.

He had asked her about her experience as a werewolf so far and she had given honest, if extremely edited, answers. If he was willing to marry her as part of an agreement with Mr. Folsom, she couldn't risk speaking poorly of him. And her mother had always told her that no man liked a woman who spoke badly of her father.

He had been polite.

And she had finally relaxed enough to ask him why he was even willing to marry a werewolf woman.

He had been honest in return, although just as edited, she would later learn.

"My wolf is unstable and a mate bond helps. I also plan to travel a significant amount in the near future and need someone to maintain my household. My cabin is out in the Washington territories. I have two grown sons and I don't want any more children. What I need is a werewolf mate and household manager."

It sounded like a dream come true. But, "you'll be traveling for extended periods of time? Is it… safe there? For me?"

He had gotten that condescending look on his face that reminded her that he was a man like any other and didn't quite understand why a werewolf woman would care about safety. But he had still been kind in his explanation. "As my mate, you would speak with my voice. You would be able to command any strange werewolf who came there. I will make sure you know how to fight off anything else that might show up before I go on my first trip. Are you willing to marry me?"

He must have known that she would accept his offer regardless of his answers. It made her feel better, though, that he was still considerate of her when he didn't have to be.

He wasn't the prince she had dreamed of when she had been a small child, but he was far better than anything she had imagined for herself this past year.

"I would be delighted to be your wife. Thank you."

She had smiled warmly at him as she relaxed control of her wolf and reached out to his. It would have been more proper to wait until their actual wedding, she knew, but she wanted to make sure she could even do this at all. She had reached out for him and his wolf had reached back. She'd had enough training in high society before becoming a werewolf that she didn't flinch, didn't even let her smile dim, when she had first felt the monster he called his wolf.

He had said his wolf was unstable and that a mating bond would help him.

It was nice to know that she wasn't just a pity case. He clearly needed her, too, ruined woman that she was. She didn't imagine there were many who would put up with what he had inside him.

She had thought that maybe this was a fairytale like _La Belle et la Bête_. It wasn't until several years later when she met his youngest son—Charles, who was her own age—that she realized that Bran had already found and lost again his Belle. She was just another unwary traveler sacrificed to la Bête.

It wasn't until much later that she learned that he had agreed to marry her because she repulsed him as much as his wolf did. He wanted a mate who could stabilize his monstrosity of a wolf and a woman he was never in danger of loving.

That discovery had made her want to cry. She hadn't cried though. She was strong. She didn't need love or even respect. No marriage was perfect, and at least it gave her a household of her own and a purpose.

For decades she had managed all of the money and finances of the growing pack. Then Charles had returned from his wanderings and settled down for a time with the Marrok's pack. Bran had decided that their finances were sufficiently grand that they needed a financial plan rather than an estate budget. Estate budgets could be maintained by wives, but financial plans were the affairs of men.

Before the women's rights movement of the 1960s had overturned female culture across society, she'd helped individual women attacked by werewolves overturn their own ingrained social expectations. She'd had the character and understanding to help debutants raised to be passive to discard all their training, in order to have a fighting chance at surviving the instincts of a werewolf. It was almost humorous how the women's rights movement had decreased her power rather than increased it.

At least she had still been the only person able to give Bran control of his grotesque wolf. But that too changed when Charles mated with an Omega and brought her back to the Marrok's pack.

The Omega was really the final straw, she thinks.

For so many years, she had been able to just… ignore how her purpose had slowly worn away over the years.

But then one of Bran's few actual friends had failed to gain control of his wolf after his change, and Bran had killed him rather than accept Leah's help. The Omega arrived the day of the funeral, and forced Leah to face how weak her position had become.

In her presence, Leah's so-long-suppressed rage and grief had burst out of her and she couldn't make herself shut up. "He had no business there! He killed Carter. And now he pretends to mourn him? I couldn't keep him from going. He never listens to me anyway, does he? His sons are his advisors, all I am is a replacement for his lost love, the incomparably beautiful, self-sacrificing Indian bitch. I can't stop him, but I won't support him either."

She had supported him in so much. Even as she taunted him or railed against him, she had always still supported him in the end. But not in this. She refused. She hated that he treated her as nothing more than a useful crutch for his wolf, but she could accept that. It hurt only her, and it wasn't like she hadn't agreed to their arrangement. But she couldn't support him when his refusal to see her as useful actually kept her from being useful.

There was a reason why there were so few female werewolves: women were raised to be nonviolent and passive, to be quiet and calm and everything that was anathema to a wolf. How many female werewolves had she helped get through the exact same issues that Carter had faced? She had never bothered to count. Everyone in the pack might think she was a bitch, but she had survived her transformation into a werewolf and she had helped others do the same.

But Bran had refused to let her help Carter.

Because she had never liked the man, had been jealous of his friendship with her husband? Because Bran had somehow thought she'd liked all of the women she'd helped in the past, had never been jealous of them?

Because he didn't think she could do anything for Carter? Because of course a modern man would never struggle with the same issues as so many debutants of the past had. So Bran had allowed his friend to sink into insanity and be killed for it, all because he refused to acknowledge strength and ability in his wife.

And on the day of the funeral that she might have been able to prevent, she'd had to meet an Omega wolf, the mate of her husband's beloved son, and another victim who'd been "rescued" by mating with a powerful older werewolf. The Omega didn't know any better than Leah had. She wondered how long it would take her to realize her value to Charles was in existing rather than anything she did or said. It wouldn't be too long. An Omega's presence, after all, decreased reticence. Charles would likely tell her himself one day. The Omega's presence had forced Leah to confront the despair she had hidden from for so long. She had actually been brought to tears in front of one of the newest female wolves.

Leah had actually cried in front of witnesses.

"Oh, _God_. Oh my God."

She'd cried in front of a new wolf and in front of Sage, and with less than half a century's experience between the two of them. Two wolves who were already more loved by her husband than she ever had a chance at. In front of two wolves who thought Leah was less than nothing, a bed warmer for the Marrok.

She'd done her best to avoid the Omega ever since.

The Omega could help any troubled wolves better than Leah could anyway. Including helping Bran himself.

Kara's arrival then felt like a death knell.

Kara was so young and so strong. Turned as a prepubescent female, she had been born into the digital age, raised to be the equal of any man, and was a living demonstration that the subservience of female werewolves to their male counterparts could be flouted. She had a will of iron and a family that loved her. And she fascinated so many of the old and powerful werewolves.

Asil who thought Leah a whore because she amused herself with flirting, protected Kara.

Devon, who stayed in wolf form and ignored everyone in the pack, worried about Kara.

Bran, a man who avoided love by marrying a woman he refused to even like, loved Kara more than he was willing to admit to himself.

And Leah liked her, too, although she had to struggle against her own jealousy.

She could feel Bran's captivation with the child, whom he could dominate with age, but might one day meet as an equal. If ever there could be a female alpha of a pack, it would be Kara. When Leah needed to command, she had to pull on her husband's power. She didn't even know how much or little power she might have had, but she was certainly given no respect on her own behalf. But Kara already garnered so much respect. Everyone who knew her knew that she would one day command entirely in her own right. She was, in fact, already getting in trouble commanding her elders.

Bran smiled with amusement and allowed Kara's orders to stand when the same order from Leah would get a grimace and be countermanded by habit.

And the worst part was how Bran relied on his dislike of her, in order to permit himself to love others. Bran fooled himself into thinking that his mate necessarily had to be his closest bond. He thought that if he pushed her away, then he also avoided all other attachments. He told himself that as long as he wasn't close to her, then he didn't have to worry about getting too close to anyone.

Without her presence, Leah knew that Bran would never go near the girl. Without her presence, Bran's wolf would have tried to mate with the girl the instant she reached whatever level of maturity the millennium old monster thought was appropriate. With Kara now fourteen and post-pubescent, it probably would have happened already.

So, Bran clung all the tighter to Leah's mate-bond, and all the tighter to his disdain of her as well, because he considered both necessary to his sanity.

They weren't.

At least not any longer. Hadn't the precious Omega shown that?

She knew it even if he didn't.

Bran wasn't the lone traveler anymore, mourning the death of his beloved wife. He was the apex of a massive network of werewolf packs that spanned the breadth and width of the North American continent. His sons were both mated, and one to an Omega who lived practically next door to him.

He didn't need Leah and he had never wanted her; all he did was wear her down, and the opportunities to build herself up were slipping away one by one.

The annual diplomatic gathering between werewolves and Fae had been a high point of her life. It was the last pack event that Leah still presided over. It was the one time a year when she could actually use her training in hosting formal gatherings. She was good enough at it to impress even the glamorously sophisticated Fae and to demonstrate the worthiness of werewolf society to an arrogant race prone to see all others as lesser. It was the one time a year that Leah could prove her worth to Bran and, more importantly, to herself.

It was the one time a year when she had allowed herself to pretend that she was treasured. With the werewolf finances taken out of her hands and the pack grown to be a town rather than a household, the fae–werewolf gathering was the one event each year that still gave Leah purpose.

And now it was gone.

Alistair Beauclaire's declaration of the Fae reservations as a sovereign nation and Bran's wariness of open diplomatic relations with them seemed like a point of no return. She knew that the event would return in a few years. It would be more necessary than ever for the fae and werewolf communities to maintain open communication. But she also knew that she would not be the one presiding over it. That role would likely be taken over by either the Omega or Arianna, the mates of Bran's sons. Or maybe even one of the men, who would declare it an important diplomatic event rather than a _mere_ social one, and thus remove it from the realm of women's work. She couldn't bring herself to care who it ended up with; all that mattered was that it was no longer hers.

She should be used to such losses by now, but this just seemed like too much. Too much too quickly. The Omega and Kara and this all within two years' time. It felt like the world itself had conspired with her mate and her pack to emphasize her worthlessness.

For most of the year, she entertained herself with planning and re-planning the gathering. It had been a hobby and a joy, a purpose and a way to convince herself that she was still useful, still important. And now she didn't have it.

Now there was just final acceptance and closing down the last avenues for achieving self-worth.

She called each of her contractors personally to cancel their services.

It was the same conversation repeated each time.

"I am sorry to let you know that my annual event has been canceled this year and likely for the foreseeable future. I wanted to let you know as soon as possible so that you didn't work your schedule around it. Please let me know if I can provide you with any references. I can give you glowing reviews."

She wondered how many livelihoods she was hurting with these calls. Not many people needed or could afford the perfection her contractors provided. If she could mitigate their losses with help finding other patrons, she would do so. She paid an enormous amount for the services and goods she wanted. Never more than they were worth, but never any less, either.

In the beginning, when she had maintained the budget as a homesteading wife, she had pinched every penny. Once the pack had grown large and wealthy and Charles had taken over the budget, she spent as much as she wanted in any way she wanted just to see if anyone would tell her to stop.

No one ever did.

It did allow her to hire artisans and performers for events that impressed even immortal fae, accustomed to magic.

And the contractors were always grateful.

She tried not to cling to these conversations with humans around the world with whom she shared common interests, and who may or may not like her, but who all respected her. It was a salve to hear their compliments.

"Mrs. Cornick, I am so sorry to that I won't get the chance to work with you this year."

"I'm so sorry your event is being canceled. Being part of creating such a spectacle has always been a high point of my year."

"I'm so sorry to miss my chance to work with you this year. I hope you'll keep me in mind for any future work you need."

The best part was she could hear that they were telling the truth. All of them would miss her business and the prestige that came with working with her. But many of them were also genuinely sorry not to be able to work with her.

"That's kind of you to say," she replied.

Sophia Vasquez, though, was perhaps the most surprising in her compliment.

"We will all miss hosting your convention, Mrs. Cornick. I feel like I learned more from seeing you at work than I did in my hospitality management program."

Ms. Vasquez was not her normal contact at the upscale hotel and conference center. Her normal contact had been a known fae who would have returned to the nearest reservation weeks ago when all the other known fae did. Ms. Vasquez was an impressive and powerful woman who managed the upscale hotel and retreat magnificently but didn't have the personality to interact with clients nor the interest in faking a conciliatory personality.

Leah liked her.

"Thank you."

"It is true. And actually that brings me to a question I hoped to ask you. Since the fae have left, we are short many of our senior event planners and are feeling it. Do you have any suggestions for whom we could hire?"

"Hmm." Leah considered. Many of the best event planners were fae, she knew, and had been pulled back to the reservations. Fae, after all, made a deadly competition of social events. Leah had always enjoyed being part of that competition. There were certainly plenty of normal humans who were quite talented, but she could see how there would now be a vacuum at the very top of the field.

"Let me think on it and I'll call you back."

"I appreciate it. At the moment, I'm having to take up the slack."

And that, both the hint of personal revelation and the dry humor from the normally reserved woman, surprised an actual laugh out of Leah.

Leah could only imagine that some high society individuals and large corporate representatives had been in for quite the shock when they'd discovered the urbane Evgeny had left and been replaced by Ms. Vasquez with her sharp judgment. Ms. Vasquez herself was likely missing her own regular routine as well, with numbers and orders.

"I doubt you're alone in your predicament. At least half of the name-recognition event planners at this level are fae."

"There are a lot of openings, and while I can offer a more than competitive salary with extensive benefits, the fact that my hotel is largely surrounded by a wildlife preserve rather than city attractions is hurting me. Evgeny enjoyed it, but he was a rare find."

"Hmm. Yes." Evgeny had been a vulpine fae of some kind and had enjoyed the wildlife preserve as much as she and her wolves had. The other wolves had avoided him, but Leah had appreciated the freedom of running with someone outside of the pack. "I'll try to get back to you with some suggestions before the end of the week."

"Thank you. I hope your own situation improves as well."

"One can only hope." She spoke with some acid. She didn't bother to apologize. Sophia wouldn't expect one anyway. They both hung up.

She stared at the phone for a while, thinking through the various event planners she had worked with in the past and her opinions of them and their current positions. Some of them would be no good, most of them wouldn't be tempted away from their current positions, but there were a few possibilities as long as Ms. Vasquez was willing to pay enough. Leah thought through her schedule; maybe she'd call them to find out about their current situations before passing on their names.

It was a good idea even though she knew it was also an excuse to interact with the world outside of the pack for just a bit longer. She couldn't help but fantasize just a bit about taking the job herself.

She'd be good at it.

She had been raised to be a wife. She had always known that she was supposed to marry into wealth and host her husband's social events. She had learned seating arrangements and party planning at her mother's knee.

For a moment she allowed herself to daydream.

She could have a job she was good at, a purpose that the people around her respected.

She would leave the pack behind and run as a lone wolf on the nature preserve, without being followed or chided or mocked or even watched.

Maybe she'd flirt or even sleep with other guys, because in this daydream, Bran wasn't there. The travelers she'd invite to her bed would probably not be as talented lovers as Bran was, but they'd warm her in ways he never did.

She wasn't sure how long she'd sat there at her desk just thinking of what might have been if she had been born later. If she had been born in a time when a husband hadn't been necessary to have a household. If some other woman had been found to give Bran stability.

Bran himself coming into the house barely pulled her out of her fantasy. Normally he did his things and she did hers and they never even interacted. But today had been hard and she needed comfort. She wanted to be held in warm arms for a bit, even if those arms belonged to the man responsible for so much that was wrong. She pulled herself away from her desk and went into the living room where Bran was just hanging up his coat.

She lowered her barriers a bit and reached out to Bran's wolf; dark possessive presence that it was, it would always reach back to her. Bran looked mildly surprised but willing to acquiesce to her unspoken request.

And then Kara stormed in to their house, as if to remind Leah of how little her needs mattered.

Kara didn't even see Leah. Kara was destined to be someone, for all that she was only fourteen, and she didn't even _see_ Leah. Instead, she yelled at Bran, "I don't need a guy to fight my battles for me!"

Leah couldn't find it in herself to care about what had prompted this outburst. It didn't matter. Bran had turned immediately toward Kara, focused on her cares, in a way that he never was with Leah. "It's not about that."

It was too much for Leah.

"Go away," Leah told Kara, channeling her mate's power, enforcing her will on the girl. Kara might be dominant to many in the pack, but she still had to obey the Marrok and as his mate, Leah could speak with his voice.

Except that Bran immediately contradicted Leah, "Stay." He used his own power to override her order. Then he finally turned back to Leah and said, without using power, "Can you give us a moment." Even without any coercion, it was an order. It certainly wasn't a question.

Leah found herself baring her human teeth at her mate, and it almost felt like grinning. It almost felt like scoring a point when she forced him to slap her down in front of others. He didn't like to think he was such a bad husband. And if he contradicted her, at least he was paying attention to what she did.

She found herself thinking that maybe Kara had a point. If Kara didn't need someone to fight _her_ battles, did Leah need anyone else to fight _hers_? Leah didn't fight her own battles because her husband was the most powerful werewolf in the Americas. Who was there for her to fight except those who must obey Bran and Bran himself? Maybe it was time for her to stand and fight.

"No," she said. She was just so angry at him and at Kara and at herself and at the whole damn world. She could actually feel herself still channeling his power even though it would have no effect directed as it was back at him. "You need to decide who's more important to you here and now, her or me. Because I want her out of my house right now."

Bran sighed, as if he couldn't believe how petty she was being. She wasn't being petty! "I'm not choosing her over you. I just need to talk with her right now, and you're not helping."

No, she wasn't helping, was she. Nothing she did would help him, because he wouldn't let her. And even if she did somehow manage to help despite him he would never acknowledge it, would he.

"You are an idiot if you don't know that _is_ choosing. Very well, make your choice—have her instead." And she took as much power as she could—and she'd had a lot of experience channeling his power, since none of his wolves gave her any respect without it—and she pointed at Kara. It wasn't exactly intentional, but she wasn't really surprised either when she felt her mate bond with Bran rip free of her and seize the girl. And like that it was gone from her senses.

Both Bran and the girl went white with shock and horror. Leah thought that she ought to be horrified, too, except that she was just so angry and the loss felt like a release. She was free.

"Leah? Kara, what, Leah?" Bran sounded more lost and fragile than she'd ever heard him before. She got a vicious pleasure out of finally making an impact.

Her pack bond also vanished, too weak a connection to the other wolves to survive the loss of her mate bond to their leader. The pack bindings dissipated with the bond, as fragile as a single thread of a spider's web. She was a lone wolf. A female lone wolf, something no one had thought possible and yet here she was.

Her daydream had come true.

She took a deep breath of the crisp air and felt lighter than a feather, as giddy as at her first presentation ball.

Bran was still dominant to her, though, so she knew better than to stick around and give him a chance to regain his balance. Kara could take care of herself and even if she couldn't, Asil would help her. This was Leah's dream and she was keeping it! She turned and walked away.

Her anger had burned itself out, replaced by heady relief. She practically floated out of the living room and into her bedroom. She felt high on possibilities.

She was free and she was going to stay that way.

She emptied her jewelry box into a backpack, along with several changes of underwear. Her wallet and cellphone went in, too, and then she was out the back door.

In the front room, she could smell that Kara had half-shifted, ready to fight off her surprise mate. Well, good luck to her. Leah was washing her hands of it all. She was done.

She could still hear them faintly (Kara: "I'll kill you. I will! Don't you come near me!" Bran: "I would never, I didn't, I don't intend to do anything to harm you!") when she pulled out her cell phone and called Ms. Vasquez again.

"Hello, Ms. Vasquez. This is Leah. I hope I'm not calling you too late."

There was only the faintest pause as Sophia registered that Leah had introduced herself by her first name only, but she was both smart and quick. "Leah, it is always a good time to hear from you," Ms. Vasquez lied, but it was the type of polite social lie that stood in for a real truth. Sophia Vasquez would always make time for Leah and ensure that she always felt welcomed even at awkward times. "Please call me Sophia. How can I help you?"

Leah could also hear a faint thread of expectation in Ms. Vasquez's, no, in Sophia's voice. Sophia was smart as a whip and might have guessed from both the timing and the greeting what was coming. Leah found herself smiling.

"I find myself a free agent for the first time in a long time. My soon-to-be-ex husband is currently busy with a younger lady." It would be no surprise to Sophia, who had to have known for years that Leah was not happily married, and it was better to get that information out of the way. "I have no resume to speak of, but I was wondering if I could submit my own name for the position of event planner."

"Leah, I would be absolutely delighted." And she really was. There was real pleasure and excitement in Sophia's voice. "Just tell me what name would you like on your offer letter and may I arrange your travel here? I very much look forward to working with you."

"Thank you." She knew there was too much emotion in that simple thanks. She wasn't sure how much of the relief and grief and pleasure Sophia would be able to hear. Leah pressed on, refusing to let the gratitude stand alone, and found herself speaking the truth when she continued, "I very much look forward to this new stage in my life."


	2. Lone Wolf and Alpha

_Summary: Leah was far from the only female werewolf in a bad situation. They too get their chance at happiness._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own the Mercy Thompson universe, which is probably all to the good._

 _A/N: thanks to my sister for her lovely beta reading services. Any mistakes remain my own silly fault._

* * *

 **Lone Wolf and Alpha**

* * *

The white woman sitting at the only occupied table in the now closed restaurant was smaller than Clementine had been expecting. She looked fragile and smelled like nerves covered by bravado.

She'd actually met Leah – Leah Cornick at that time – some years back, but the Marrok's mate hadn't made much of an impression at the time. In comparison, the recent video made Leah seem like a giant.

Leah herself had originally sent the video to the All-Alpha List Serve that the Marrok maintained. It was security footage from the conference center that Leah now worked at, dated a week after the Marrok had formally announced that Leah was no longer his mate.

It hadn't been the best quality video, but viewers could still see and hear Jonathan, the alpha of the Wood Hollow pack, and Emmanuel, his second, confronting Leah.

It started abruptly with Jonathan saying, "You should have presented yourself weeks ago. You'll be a member of my pack."

"No, I won't be, and no, I shouldn't have. I am a lone wolf and will remain a lone wolf for the rest of my life."

The video angle was awkward, but Clementine had watched it enough times to know that through the whole conversation, Leah never made eye contact with either of the other wolves. She looked over their shoulders and above their heads. Demonstrating neither dominance nor submission, she placed herself firmly outside any traditional werewolf mode of confrontation.

"You can't be a lone wolf. You're too vulnerable as a female. I'll protect you. We all will. You'll be treated with the utmost respect, but you have to be a member."

"If you want to treat me with respect, you'll walk away. I won't go with you and I'll never submit again."

"You don't have a choice." Jonathan had been trying to catch Leah's eye the whole time, but it wasn't until that point that he actually put his hands on her. He put a hand on her shoulder.

Clementine had gone through this next bit screen by screen in order to catch the details that were too fast for regular viewing: the dagger that Leah had up her sleeve, slid out in one hand, flipped over, and stabbed right into Jonathan's heart. It must have been silver and Leah must have had perfect aim, because it looked like a heart attack.

That's essentially what it was, really. Jonathan's heart just stopped. He was on the ground, to all appearances dead, before Emmanual even noticed what had happened. Leah turned immediately to Emmanual, ignoring the body at her feet, and said, "You're now the alpha of the Wood Hollow pack. So I will tell you what I told the previous alpha: I will never join another pack. You need to walk away."

The video clip ended there. Clementine didn't know what happened next, but the facts were this: Emmanual was still alive and the current alpha of the Wood Hollow pack, and Leah was still alive and a lone wolf working at that same conference center. There had been no arrests or even news reports in mainstream media.

But that video clip had made the rounds within werewolf society. From the All-Alpha List Serve it had travelled via email and drop box and secure server to every female werewolf with internet access and any sort of connection with another female werewolf.

There was a female lone wolf who had defended her right to be a lone wolf and won. She hadn't needed to be dominant, just determined and fast and ruthless with nothing left to lose.

The video itself was a challenge to the alphas.

It was evidence that she had murdered a werewolf.

It was also evidence that women were subjugated in werewolf society.

It was mutually assured destruction if it ever hit mainstream media.

It was a lit match in a powder keg within werewolf society.

And now here was the original spark, sitting in her restaurant after hours, waiting for her. Clementine almost regretted insisting on a face-to-face meeting for their final negotiations. Surely everything could have been resolved via email? Except, no, there were some things she really did need to hear in person.

They were the only two left in the closed building, although some of her employees had looked questioningly at their chef's insistence that they close and lock up with that one customer left. She collected the printed contracts from her office, and a pen that she planned to sign them with after this conversation.

Finally she walked through the doors from the back of the restaurant to the front.

Leah rose at Clementine's approach.

"Thank you for coming, Leah." As far as Clementine knew, Leah had not taken on a last name at this point.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Ms. Johnson. I hope you understand that I drove into town this afternoon and hope to be on my way out after our conversation." Meaning she had no intention of meeting with Clementine's alpha or any of the other members of her pack if Leah could possibly help it.

"I understand completely." And she appreciated it, too, since she rather thought everyone was better off avoiding that type of confrontation. "I'll try to keep it short."

They did not shake hands, but both sat down at one of the tables. Clementine put the stack of papers to one side for now. There was a short pause while Clementine considered, again, the best way to open this conversation. Leah's lips twitched into a small smile, mocking but also honest, and offered, "how about I start by summarizing my offer?"

And that was what Clementine needed. She needed to hear the offer in a format that would let her hear truth and lies. Emails could lie, even legal contracts could lie, but with spoken words she could test the truth herself rather than rely on a lawyer. "Please."

"In the past three months, forty-three female werewolves have tried to follow my example." In Leah's first email to Clementine, six weeks ago, the number had been twenty-seven. "Eleven of them are dead. Nineteen are currently confined. Thirteen have disappeared."

It was more than Clementine had known about, but less than she had feared. It also just hadn't been that long. A couple of months was only enough for the desperate and the wild to try their luck without any planning. More would make the attempt.

But one thing she knew, even if it hadn't quite been a lie in Leah voice, "Thirteen have disappeared?"

"Officially."

"And unofficially?"

"I'm fairly sure Bran knows more than he's saying. He's certainly the reason there aren't more dead and fewer contained. And you know that nine of those missing werewolves have made it to me. I shared their emails with you and I'm also fairly sure you've had conversations with them that I'm not part of."

Clementine nodded. "Yes. They're pleased with the co-op you've helped them create. Though they're worried that it might not be able to compete with the big box stores that have previously monopolized that community. At this point, they're largely dependent on your patronage and you refuse to make pack bonds."

Leah snorted. "The patronage will continue, as I prefer to have the Centre order through a co-op rather than through the corporations. And the lack of a pack bond will hopefully be answered by your presence. There has never been a female alpha to a pack before, but then again, there have never been female lone wolves before either."

Clementine bit back her response to that. Most of werewolf history wasn't documented, because they stayed in secret. Even documented history was often kept very coded. There was absolutely no way to confirm or refute the existence of previous female alphas or female lone wolves. While current werewolf doctrine claimed no female werewolf could be alpha, some evidence seemed to imply that some had. But that was not the point of this conversation and Leah believed what she said.

"I have known enough lone wolves to know what I am, and that I want to remain a lone wolf. But those nine, they need and want a pack. They're already creating pack bonds with each other. If it weren't for the constant threat of a male alpha trying to take over, I'd be interested in seeing what they made of themselves as an alpha-less pack. But they need someone to stand for them, to be their alpha. And I'm not it."

For the most part, Leah spoke factually, laying out the situation, but that last sentence hinted at pain. Leah had been in the role of alpha-mate for two centuries and all it had gotten her was the desperate need to never be in that position again.

Clementine suspected that if Leah thought about it further, she'd realize she couldn't be alpha again for purely symbolic reasons. She was the first documented female lone wolf and no one knew Leah's actual dominance, aside from the Marrok himself, and possibly not even him. Leah had made sure it didn't matter. If she stepped in as official alpha, suddenly it would matter again.

The symbol Leah had become couldn't afford to reveal a level of dominance that put her anywhere in the hierarchy of werewolves.

"You're not their alpha, but you are their patron and their protector. You have been enough for them." Clementine kept her own words factual, knowing they'd be more comforting to Leah than any softness.

Leah jerked a nod of acceptance. "Thank you. But to go forward, they need an alpha. And you are the most dominant female werewolf in North America who is not mated to another werewolf."

Clementine's level of dominance wasn't generally known, even inside her current pack where she presented herself as mid-range dominant. The Marrok had known, and turned a blind eye, so she wasn't surprised that Leah was one of those who knew better too. She had learned over the years to downplay her dominance in werewolf society, while giving it free range when in command of her kitchens. Kitchens were an acceptable women's domain, although it was rare for a woman, much less a woman of color, to be a top chef in a high-end restaurant. Even a hundred years ago, as a household cook, masters of the house tended to laugh and brag about her command of the kitchen as long as she was absolutely subservient outside of it.

Clementine nodded. "And I have the contract you sent me for ownership of the new restaurant near their new co-op. I'm prepared to sign it and to move there, but I do have a few more questions I need to ask first."

"Then ask."

"How much of this situation did you and the Marrok plan out together?"

Leah looked stunned at the question, which was actually interesting on its own. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Clementine was prepared to take the offer regardless of Leah's answer, as long as it was the truth. If it was planned or not, the need was still there. Clementine just didn't like being used as a pawn.

Leah finally spoke, but rather than answering, returned a question, "Why do you ask that?"

"Because the status of female werewolves has been increasingly unacceptable. Werewolf packs have always been more accepting of race differences than mainstream society, but much slower at accepting gender equality."

It wasn't even really that werewolf society was slow, but that it completely diverted from mainstream society when it came to women's rights. Clementine had chosen to become a werewolf because it gave her protections that weren't otherwise available to people like her even decades post-emancipation. The differences in how women were treated inside a werewolf pack versus outside had been inconsequential at the time. She'd made her peace with the situation and gotten on with her life. But now, mainstream society had changed so much, and werewolf society so little.

"If we're supposed to be part of mainstream society now, the status of women should have been addressed decades ago. You're not the perfect trial case for a female lone wolf, but you're not a bad one, as long as the Marrok was willing to sacrifice his mate bond to the effort."

Leah's face looked progressively more pinched at Clementine spoke. It made her feel guilty, pointing out that maybe this woman had been sacrificed and manipulated by her own mate, but it was a scenario that Clementine had quietly wondered about. She'd never spoken of it to anyone else, though.

Leah took a deep breath and relaxed again. She raised her eyes from their focus on the tabletop to staring once more rather fixedly over Clementine's shoulder. "I don't know how much of this Bran planned. I was never part of those plans. To the extent of my knowledge, my actions were my own."

There could be no hiding the bitter twist to those words, made worse by their truth. Clementine found herself sorry for introducing the seed of doubt, that maybe it was Leah who had been the pawn.

She couldn't afford guilt right now, though, so she put that aside.

And there was one last question to ask, one that abated the guilt over the last one: "Rumor has it that you left the Marrok mated to a fifteen-year-old girl. Is that true?"

It was not public knowledge, or anything like it. Clementine wasn't even sure how well known the situation was within the Marrok's own pack; the friend she'd called had been extremely wary of saying anything even to Clementine. It really was just a rumor, and she half expected Leah to roll her eyes and deny it as one more layer of libel against her.

Instead Leah said, "Yes."

Leah's answer was stark and she sat with her chin raised, waiting for condemnation. It was the look of someone who'd made a hard call, still wasn't sure it was the right call, but certainly didn't expect others' understanding of the complex situation. Clementine knew that response all too well.

She waited it out. Leah would explain further if not pressed.

Finally Leah sighed. "I couldn't break my bond. But it turns out that I could transfer it. And Bran isn't actually a monster, even if his wolf is messed up. He'd never have hurt Kara, and certainly not while Asil was around to protect her. Anyway, I've kept tabs. Their mate bond dissolved within a week. Bran didn't even publicly acknowledge the loss of our mate bond until he could confirm he was not mated at all."

"Okay. just out of curiosity, you're keeping tabs on the Marrok's pack? _How?_ " She could understand being ruthless enough to use a teenage girl when necessary; and fifteen was older than she'd been when she'd first slept with a man. What she couldn't understand was how Leah managed to have someone still talking to her from within that pack. That was crazy. Clementine's own source had been extremely wary of sharing any information, and they'd been friends for decades.

Leah quirked another of her small smiles. "I do try to clean up my own messes." A subtle gesture of her hands indicated their current situation, sitting together planning the creation of a female werewolf pack to take care of the women who'd followed Leah's example. "I sent Kara a prepaid smart phone and asked her if she was okay."

Clementine considered that for a moment and then returned a matching smile herself. "Well, that's good."

As if to ward off the possibility of a moment of empathy, Leah changed the topic abruptly. "Is there anything else you need to know or ask?"

Clementine shook her head and made certain to mask the pity she felt for this woman who so carefully protected her lone status, even as she tried to care for the people around her. Under other circumstances, Leah would have made an exceptional pack alpha. "No, you've answered all my questions. I'll sign the contracts. You can take them back with you."

"Excellent."

She signed them in silence, carefully handing each page over to Leah for her review. The rental agreement for the new restaurant space. The liquor license. The small business form. And the silent partner agreement with Leah herself for the start-up funds to run the restaurant. Her lawyer had already reviewed them all. Clementine wasn't sure how Leah had managed to get this all organized, but was just as happy to not know, really.

"It will take me three weeks to get down there. Two weeks for my notice and another week to pack and move. But I'll be there and I'll take care of the nine women already there and any others who show up. You won't have to deal with them again, unless you want to."

"I won't want to."

"I know." Clementine did know. Maybe Leah would change her mind later, because all things are possible when you don't age and refuse to die, but it wouldn't be in any foreseeable future. "I'll take care of them. And not for your sake. It will be for them. You don't have to earn my protection of them."

"Thank you."

"But I do want to make you an offer."

"I don't want it."

"It's not an invitation into the pack. It's this: if you ever want to discover how dominant you are, I'll help you find out safely, without any consequences. Just to know. Because it doesn't matter now, but it might later. Or you might just become curious."

"I don't…"

"It's an open-ended invitation."

And one that Clementine hoped that Leah would take. Both for her own sake and for the sake of Clementine's own curiosity. But not now. "Right now, we are both way too busy. I need to get home and tell my boyfriend that we're moving. And the restaurant owner that I'm leaving. And prepare for a discussion with my current alpha."

"Will that be a problem?"

"I'll find out tomorrow. But no, it won't be the sort of problem that changes any of our plans."

"Let me…," Leah cut herself off. "I mean, good luck."

"To us both. And safe travels to you. I'll see you in three weeks."

"I look forward to it."


	3. Kara Comes Into Her Own

_Summary:_ Kara was ten when she was attacked by a werewolf and survived. At fifteen she rejected a mating bond to the Marrok. At eighteen, she's ready to attend the renewed annual Fae-Werewolf conference. (She hopes.) Her life has consisted of being thrown into the deep end, but this time she's going to jump.

 _A/N:_ thanks to my sister for her beta-reading services. all remaining mistakes remain my own silly fault.

* * *

 **Kara Comes Into Her Own**

* * *

Kara contemplated her phone. It was her super secret phone that she was pretty sure everyone (ie, Bran and Asil) knew about. But it was secret because it was the one that Leah had given her.

It had arrived a few years back, while Kara was still hiding out at Asil's house to avoid the mating bond she had with Bran. Leah's number had already been programmed in, and a single unread text:

_ _ _ **F** **rom Leah:** Do you need to be rescued?

She'd texted back:

_ _ _ **T** **o Leah:** No.

Within minutes, she'd gotten a reply:

_ _ _ **F** **rom Leah:** Let me know if that changes.

_ _ _ **F** **rom Leah:** I am sorry for the harm I have done you.

Kara hadn't responded at the time and that had been it. No call, no further texts. She'd used the phone to call a few of her friends from back home mostly to see if she could.

A couple of weeks later, after the mating bond had finally broken, she'd been the one to text first.

_ _ _ **T** **o Leah:** mate bond broke

_ _ _ **F** **rom Leah:** Are you okay?

_ _ _ **T** **o Leah:** yeah

_ _ _ **F** **rom Leah:** I'm glad to hear that.

And then that had really been that. Except that she'd kept the phone and it kept working. If there was a data limit on it, she hadn't run into it yet, and Leah must be paying the bill because Kara certainly never saw one. Instead she watched a lot of movies streaming on her phone and did a lot of her research on it too. It was a good phone.

Her friend Sarah had certainly been right when she'd told Kara that non-custodial divorced parents could give some expensive gifts. But it wasn't like Bran and Leah were her parents. She had her own parents. Bran was just like the head of the boarding school or something. And Leah had been the bitchy vice principal who was actually pretty smart under all the misery.

But she hadn't really given Leah much thought over the last few years. She used the phone, the phone kept working, and that was that.

Now that the whole Marrok pack was talking about the upcoming Fae-Werewolf conference, everyone was either talking about Leah or avoiding talking about her. She'd always been the hostess of those events, as the Marrok's mate, for as long as the event had been held. The Fae had apparently decided that was a tradition to continue and hired her to put together the conference again at the convention center she now worked at.

It was pretty clear to everyone that the Fae were trying to make trouble with Bran, but it was also pretty clear that Bran didn't have any good alternatives. He still hadn't mated with anyone else, and both of his sons' wives had clearly declined the honor of being his official hostess. Kara was tempted to jump on it and volunteer to do it herself, except that her biggest experience was helping to plan her high school prom and she didn't want anyone to think she was trying to regain a mate bond with Bran.

Also, everyone agreed that Leah would actually do an excellent job of it. Even the people who hated Leah agreed that there was no way she'd sabotage her own event.

Kara wouldn't have a first clue how to run the conference, but she really wanted to attend it and so far Bran had given her a flat no regarding that.

But she had this phone.

So, she texted.

_ _ _ **To Leah:** I want to attend the conference.

And then she angsted about sending that text for the next five minutes, because what the hell was she doing?

_ _ _ **F** **rom Leah:** Excellent. You're young for an attendee, but that might work in your favor.

_ _ _ **F** **rom Leah:** With your permission, I'll provide a dress for you.

_ _ _ **F** **rom Leah:** And an escort. I have just the person.

_ _ _ **From Leah:** I look forward to seeing you again.

That was not the response she was expecting. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but that wasn't it.

She was halfway through typing "Bran said I can't go" when she realized that this was going to be even more awkward as a series of text messages than it would be to just call. So she called Leah.

And was kind of surprised that the phone was picked up after just one ring.

"Hello, Kara. This is Leah." She just sounded pleasant. Which was kind of weird, because of course she sounded pleasant. It was just that Kara hadn't spoken with her in years, and in those years pretty much everyone had told her how awfully Leah had treated her. It was weird to speak with her as a real person again, and a person that she kind of liked and who had been pretty good to her, despite the one major exception.

"Um, hi, Leah."

"What can I do for you?" It was an offer by a busy woman, who was clearly not going to let any awkwardness get in either of their ways. Kara appreciated it.

"Bran said that I wasn't going."

"But you want to go?"

"Yeah."

"Then ask Bran who is going. Because he really should attend with at least one dominant female werewolf in his entourage."

"I think there are at least five other female werewolves going with him."

"Are any of them single or the more dominant wolf in the couple?"

"I don't think so."

"Then from a political statement perspective, they don't count. He's already approved of Clementine Johnson as an alpha of her own pack, but people will doubt him if all of his own entourage are men and their wives."

"I don't think this pack has any dominant women who aren't mated to someone more dominant." Kara tried to think through as many of the pack as she could even remember. And it was disturbing how much time she spent with guys because they were the ones training to be alphas or seconds of packs. She really needed to get more girl friends.

"They have you, unless you've formed a mate bond in the last few years."

"No! I'm still single!" She'd dated some but nothing serious.

"Excellent. Then Bran should bring you because it's an important statement to make. I'll guarantee your safety while there. Do you want to have that conversation with him or shall I?"

Kara had to think about it because she was tempted to offload that conversation onto Leah, who was even volunteering to have it for her. But she knew from everything she'd learned about being an alpha of a pack that there were some conversations that could be delegated and others that could not. If she wanted this, she had to get it herself.

"No, I'll do it. But I'll tell him you approve?"

"Of course. Tell him I'll ask Alexander Sandburg to be your escort. That should help."

"Who's he?"

"If he agrees, I'll introduce you. He's a very smart lawyer, and it would be to all of our benefit if he knew more about werewolf–fae relations, but he's human, and thus would never get an invite to this conference. As your plus one, he's got the invite and can help you navigate the situation."

"Perfect! Thank you, Leah!"

"It's my pleasure. Is there anything else?"

"Nope, that's it. Thank you! I'll text you once I've gotten Bran's approval." Because thinking positively was half the battle.

"You're very welcome. Good luck."

"Bye."

Kara hung up and took a few minutes to just breath, because that had happened.

She wasn't sure what she was doing with her future and still had college applications to write, but she was one step closer to being an alpha werewolf! Now she just had to tell the alpha of all the alphas that she had made arrangements and it was to his benefit to go along with them.

She could do this!

Also, she had to admit to him that she had a direct line of communication to his ex-wife. Which would be interesting. Because, sure, he almost certainly knew about her phone, but she bet he didn't know who it was from.

It still weirded her out that apparently no one else had seen that divorce coming.

People had spent months telling Kara that Leah was dangerous and selfish and terrible in all sorts of ways, like the evil witch in a Desperate Housewives of Montana show or something. And yet they were completely shocked when Leah acted really shitty. Like, what the hell? It's not betrayal when it's really obviously coming.

At least Leah had apologized afterwards, which is more than Bran had done. Bran had explained things to her. Explained that he hadn't meant to form a mating bond with her. Explained that he would never intentionally harm her. Explained that the bond was going away again. And yeah, sure, it all was super logical and all that, but he never once said, "I'm sorry for putting you through this."

He was all, "I'm sorry you had to go through this" instead.

Leah, was like, yup, I did it, it was shitty, sorry about that, but not sorry enough that I wouldn't do it again if I had to.

Leah had been one ball of bitter unhappiness the whole time Kara had known her, despite her attempts to cover it up. And Bran had seriously thought that telling his enraged wife that she was being irrational for not wanting a teenager barging into their house all the time? Even as the teenager in question, Kara had known better than that. Like, who actually does that? Without intending to cause a blow-up?

But despite all evidence to the contrary, Bran was a pretty cool guy. Not as cool as Asil, but still really helpful and nice, to Kara at least.

He kept to that, too, when Kara showed up at his house the following weekend to say that she'd gone around him to get an invite to the convention. "Because what you need in an alpha is someone who doesn't back down, even from you, when you make a bad call."

Bran was annoyed, but he listened to her make her argument again, telling him about Leah guaranteeing her safety and arranging for a guy named Alexander Sandburg to be her escort. And he eventually nodded his agreement.

Possibly helped by Asil's constipated face, as he struggled to agree with Kara without actually agreeing with Leah.

"We'll still need to discuss how you go about disagreeing with your alpha, because you're going to get yourself killed if you push the wrong person too hard."

"But I didn't push the wrong person too hard." And she refused to back down on this. If he wanted her to be scared of him, then maybe he shouldn't have worked so hard to make sure she wasn't scared of him.

He nodded again at that. "No, you didn't."

And that was how she got a place on the plane to fly out to the conference center to meet with the nation's highest-ranking (acknowledged) werewolves and fae.

By the time they were actually departing to go, however, she was second guessing herself. Because what was she even going to be doing there? And seriously, the travel itself was a mess.

A bunch of dominant werewolves all crammed into a tiny plane was just asking for trouble. She tried to keep herself to herself.

She'd been assured that roadtripping it would have been worse. At least on a plane, it was all over in a couple of hours. She wasn't sure she believed it (how could anything be worse?), but she also wasn't sure she disbelieved it enough risk experiencing anything worse than that flight.

But she was tired and grumpy and smelly by the time they all reached the actual convention center and so were all the other werewolves she was with.

Then they entered the convention center and it was amazing.

There were huge fans set on low that were keeping the air moving in a wonderful breezy manner, and live plants everywhere that gave the indoors an almost forest-like perfume.

There were a variety of people of all sorts—werewolves, fae, and humans—standing around or walking through the entranceway but they didn't matter, because there was even a massive waterfall running along one wall! A stack of hand towels sat next to it, indicating that people could stick their hands and even faces in it. Okay, maybe not intended for faces. But it was still unbelievably refreshing and Kara didn't regretting sticking her whole face in it for even a second.

"I think the fountain might need to become a permanent fixture. So far it's been a success with fae, werewolf, and human guests alike."

"You absolutely should!" Kara agreed, somewhat muffled by the towel, which must have gone through some fancy laundering to smell this fresh.

When she finally looked up at Leah, she realized why she hadn't noticed her at first. Leah didn't look anything like the pinched and straight-laced woman she'd been before. She looked elegant and welcoming and young. Like, not a teenager like Kara, but not the middle-aged woman Kara had remembered her as.

"You look good!" she blurted.

"Thank you, Kara." Leah seemed genuine. And then she turned to the rest of the group and she seemed just as genuine when she greeted them all. "Welcome to the center. Since I know you've had a long trip, I thought you'd like to head directly to your rooms to settle in, rather than deal with check in."

"Thank you, Leah." Bran said. "You do look good." Kara wanted to roll her eyes as the awkwardness of it all. Although admittedly since she was taken aback by how much Leah had changed, she'd bet it was even weirder for Bran. And the rest of the group was even quieter.

Leah, on the other hand, didn't even seem to notice the awkwardness. Instead, she was moving among them easily and passing out keycards, and she wasn't even wearing any perfume so everyone could smell that she was just happily doing her thing.

"Here are your room keycards. You're all on the fifth floor east wing of the hotel, while the fae are all on the west wing. The two wings do not have a direct connection between them. We're actually having three difference conferences here this week, so there will also be a number of other people around, although I've tried to minimize it on your floors. I'll take you to your rooms. You'll have a couple of hours to rest before the opening banquet." And she just effortlessly herded them all to the stairwell, with its door held open and welcoming, completely bypassing the elevators, because of course none of them wanted to get into another cramped space and five floors of stairs were nothing. But the stairwell had clearly been designed as a fire requirement but then decorated for more welcoming use.

They came to their rooms and quickly shed people into their own individual rooms, although Bran stayed in the hallway to see where everyone was, until it was just Kara and Bran and Leah.

"And here is your room, Bran, with Kara next door and Alexander in the door on the other side. Bran, if you want to speak with him, the next hour or so would probably be best. Kara, I suggest you take the opportunity to freshen up and I'll be by at 5, to help with dressing and introduce you."

"Thank you," Kara was so relieved that she'd have a chance to shower and nap.

Bran merely nodded, but didn't say anything, but smelling kind of sad. That hint of sorrow was what cued Kara in to the fact that for all of Leah's cheerful welcome, she hadn't looked directly at any of the werewolves. She'd been keeping her sightlines strictly averted.

"You're very welcome. I'll see you in a couple of hours. Kara, Bran." And then she was striding away.

They both watched her go.

"Well, okay! I'm going to go 'freshen up' as it were," meaning shower off all the grossness of travel, "unless you need something?"

"No, go rest. This evening will be tiring." Bran was still looking down the hallway where Leah had gone.

Kara hesitated a moment longer, but there was nothing more to say really. "Okay."

So she went into her room and unpacked her bag, hung up her old prom dress that she'd brought just in case, and showered, washed her hair, and settled in for a couple of hours of sleep.

She felt a lot better by the time Leah arrived again with two dress bags and a large make-up kit.

Leah was now dressed in a ballgown with a sequin top and a floor-length gauze skirt and a lot more make-up. She looked stunning, and Kara was still in her pajamas. But Leah gave her a quick once-over and nodded approvingly. "You look better. Travel is always rough, especially with a group of werewolves."

"Oh yeah," Kara agreed whole-heartedly. And then, because she had no patience, "so what's the dress?"

Leah grinned. "I brought two dresses. One that I think you should wear. Another as a backup in case you don't like it."

Kara tried not to think about her prom dress hanging in the closet, as Leah hung the two dress bags from the two closet doors and unzipped them.

The first dress caught her eye and it was amazing.

It was… just… amazing. It was… lacy and frilly, and her inner five-year-old was jumping up and down, and her current self wasn't far behind. It was in-your-face feminine, vintage with a modern flare. Like what an anime girl would wear, one of the ones who was super girly-girly until you pissed her off and then she stabbed you through the heart.

Given that it was Leah who had arranged these for her, and she'd seen the video of Leah stabbing someone through the heart, that just made it all the more badass in its frilly glory.

The second dress was really nice, too. It was something an a-list actress could be worn on a red carpet: sleek and elegant and adult. But it wasn't _badass_.

"If you wear this dress," Leah laid a hand on the second dress, "you'll fit right in. If you wear that dress," she referred to the one that Kara was now fondling lovingly, "you'll stand out."

"Oh, I am absolutely wearing this one." She pulled the frilly dress to her.

Leah smiled at her, her wolf smile, the one that was sharp as teeth even without turning.

Kara had missed her after she'd left Aspen Creek. Anyone could've seen that Leah and Bran were on the cusp of divorce and it never stopped surprising her how surprised everyone else in the pack had been when Leah finally walked out. Like really? Was it not super obvious?

Even though Leah had generally done the thing the mom of one of her elementary school friends had done, where she tried to keep problems out of sight of the kids. She and Sarah had both been surprised when Sarah's mom and dad split. But they'd been nine at the time.

But she'd liked Leah, even when she was being mean. It was Leah who had warned her that the boys would tease her about pack ranking being dependent on who she married. It was Leah who explained that no one knew how werewolfism effected female puberty, because Kara was the only prepubescent girl to have survived the change in modern records. It was Leah who arranged for her to see a female doctor and attended the first visit where it was Leah who asked the doctor all the embarrassing questions that Kara wasn't willing to ask herself, but desperately needed to know the answers to.

And it was Leah who had never once tried to turn Kara against any of the other women in the pack, even as they had warned her about how dangerous and untrustworthy Leah was.

Kara wanted to be herself when she grew up, but she wouldn't mind modeling at least part of herself off of who Leah was. Because Leah had a grin that was sharp and a fashion sense that was threatening.

"This is perfect."

"Excellent. Well, get it on and then we'll work on your hair."

Kara grimaced. Her hair was not her best feature. "if you can do anything with it."

Leah looked unperturbed. "Your hair is actually a great weight for up-dos. It will hold shapes in ways that sleeker hair would fall right out of." It was said factually, not like a complement, just commentary. It was comforting.

And by the time Leah was done, it was gorgeous. And outrageous, too, because there were bejeweled hair combs involved in it.

"Keep in mind that none of these hair combs are actually intended to be weapons but they're all sharp and could be used that way at need. Keep an eye out for who else is wearing something similar in their hair. There's a good chance that at least half of the hair decorations worn tonight will be concealed weapons."

"Oh." Kara wasn't sure what to say to that.

"But then again, with this guest list, pretty much anything can be a weapon and the best weapon will always be knowledge. So, let me introduce you to Alexander."

"Oh," Kara said again.

Leah unlocked and opened a door in the hotel room that wasn't the external or bathroom door. There was another closed door on the other side and Leah knocked on it. Kara realized it separated her room from someone else's room.

Leah looked back at her a moment. "You are not expected to have sex with him. You are not expected to even have him in your room. He will invite us into his room. I did however, want to make sure you had discrete access to him."

"Coming," said the voice on the other side. When the door opened, the man on the other side was wearing a tuxedo with a cut that complemented her own dress, but was otherwise not anything like she had expected. He smiled and stepped back in invitation. "Please, come in."

"Uh," Kara said. The man looked amused. "Uh," Kara said again, before finally shrugging mentally, and turning to Leah, "he's old." It's not like the guy didn't know his own age, and it had to be over sixty.

"Not quite four times your age," Leah agreed. "My ex-husband was at least thirty times my age when we married and likely still more than five times my age even now."

Kara could feel her eyes bug out a bit at that math. Most werewolves didn't talk about age like that. "But he doesn't _look_ old."

"No, although appearances mean both a great deal and very little, when dealing with individuals who are largely immortal." Leah spoke practically. "Please meet Mr. Alexander Sandburg. Alexander, this is Miss Kara Black."

"It's a pleasure, Miss Black."

"Um, please call me Kara, Mr. Sandburg."

"Then you must call me Alexander."

"Um," Kara said. She was not sure she could call a man old enough to be her grandfather by his first name.

She was saved by Leah. "You'll find that Alexander's appearance of age is to your benefit. Most supernatural beings will assume that, in a mixed race couple of one human partner and one supernatural, that the supernatural partner is the elder. By yourself, you look like a tasty treat for any fae predator; with him on your arm, you look like a baited trap waiting to snap them up."

"Huh." Leah had guaranteed her safety to Bran, but it was only now that Kara wondered what a guarantee like that even meant. How much danger was she really going to be in?

"And Kara?"

"Yeah?"

"Give it a few years, and they'll be right." And there was that wolf smile again.

"Oh." Kara felt a pleased blush warm her face but refused to duck her head. Despite the worry of only a few seconds ago, she was fairly sure she wasn't in any more danger than she could handle. And wasn't that what a proper mentor did? Allow you just the right amount of danger?

"Anyway, physical appearance is not his only benefit."

"Not just a pretty face, eh?" The man interjected.

Leah turned to look at the man with mock consideration. Kara found it somewhat disturbing to realize that while Leah had casually avoided looking her in the face this whole time, she was perfectly comfortable looking this human in the face. "Hmm," Leah said. "One can only hope."

"I'm also an excellent ballroom dancer?"

Leah nodded. "That was an important factor to take into consideration." It was said so teasingly that Kara couldn't even tell if Leah was being truthful or not.

But then abruptly practical again, Leah turned back to Kara, "Alexander is a lawyer who specializes in international and cross-cultural negotiations. You will not find a better advisor for your first formal gathering. Trust your instincts and your own opinions, but pay attention to his perspective and advice."

"A lot of people think I shouldn't trust you. That I should hate you." Kara blurted out. Because just, so many people thought she should hate Leah, even though Leah was kind of terrifying and awesome at the same time, and Jesus, she wished she hadn't said that right in front of this stranger.

Her appalled expression must have been really obvious because Alexander said, "For the duration of this weekend, you are legally my client. All communication is privileged. I won't tell anyone what you say."

"Don't you?" Leah asked.

"No. Jesus. Did you think I did?"

Leah shrugged. "I wasn't sure. I certainly left you in a bad situation."

Kara grimaced right back. "You aren't my _mom_." And really that was kind of the crux of it, now that she'd thought of it. All the other pack members expected Leah to be on their side and protect them and be the pack mom even when it was really obvious that marriage was falling apart and Bran would get the pack in the divorce. Like, really super obvious.

And this was just too deep, so change the topic: "Who's _your_ date?"

"I am working. I don't have a date."

"But aren't I supposed to be working too?"

"You're supposed to pretend to not be working. Part of your job is to make it not look like a job."

"That's stupid." Why couldn't people just be rational? Also, thank god for this change in conversation.

Leah smiled with more humor than Kara had ever seen on her face before. "So much of society is."

"Why aren't you unhappy with it?"

"It's not stupid, it's just how society is, and I _like_ society. It's like a dance. There are certain moves to it and you can learn those moves. There are correct and incorrect answers and they can all be learned. It's something that can be mastered, and it's something that I am very, very good at."

"Oh. But if you're so good at it, why can't you make it so that you have a date too?"

"Because I'm good at it, I know that I shouldn't try to have a date here, and to be honest, I don't want one either." She shrugged. "Anyway, I am being paid for a service here. All sides acknowledge that I am working because they are literally paying me to do the job."

"Also," Alexander added, "anyone she dates will be a target of both scorn and physical threats, as a vicarious insult to Bran. Her date would create conflict beyond her ability to control it. In contrast, being single and having the potential to favor any given individual courting puts a lot of control directly into her hands. It will be interesting to see who attempts to curry her favor here, and who she deflects and who she doesn't. Bran and the Grey Lords will certainly be paying attention to that."

Kara shot increasingly nervous looks at Leah during this speech, but Leah seemed unconcerned. "He is your advisor for the weekend, if you're confused by something ask him."

"Oh." Kara wondered if there was any way to ask her current question and then decided there really wasn't.

"In case you are wondering," Leah added rather dryly, "I am not in a romantic relationship with him."

"Oh thank god." Kara had really not wanted to ask and really not wanted to know the answer if the answer was 'yes', but dear god, the answer being 'no' was reassuring because her relationship with Leah was already crazy without being 'escorted' by her new boyfriend. "But you can date, right? Like you don't have to be single forever? Join a nunnery like the old days?"

Leah actually huffed out a laugh. "Be careful with referencing 'the old days' like that. But no, I can and do date. It is merely easier if I keep my relationships circumspect."

"Maintaining the option to go public but withholding it, can be a power move as well. Having a semi-known secret can also be a means of entrapping potential blackmailers," Alexander pointed out. "Social and political maneuvering on this level can get complex."

"You're being thrown into the deep end here, but that can be the best way to learn," Leah said. "And it's time to go."

Leah opened the external door. Alexander offered his arm to Kara and together they exited to the hallway.

"Do or do not, there is no try," Kara agreed, feeling more than a bit overwhelmed.

"Hmm," Leah said, somewhat judgmentally. And Kara honestly couldn't tell if that meant that Leah did or did not catch the reference. Either way, she ignored it. "Your goal here is to see and be seen. To meet people and decide if you like them or not, and if you can work with them or not."

There were other werewolves in the hallway, all dressed to the nines, but Leah had been right: Kara stood out. She met a few eyes and exchanged smiles (and a few subtle thumbs ups) but kept her attention on Leah as they walked to the elevator.

"Yeah. I'm networking."

"It's a new word for an old practice. We used to call it simply making the right connections. But you're not looking for anything in particular here."

Kara was definitely looking for something particular here: Bran had asked her to see who her equivalents were among the fae, if any. Who were the younger fae who were still learning, and who would be kept back from interacting with Bran himself or even his sons and close compatriots until they'd had more years to gain power.

Kara didn't mention that particular assignment.

"The people here, they're not going to be the nicest people, but they're going to be the most interesting, most fascinating, and most influential people you may ever meet. This isn't just an opportunity to make connections, it's an opportunity to have amazing conversations."

"You really love this don't you?"

"I really do."

They were the only people in the elevator down and Kara jumped on the opportunity to get some last minute advice. "So, what's the best way to start up a conversation with a fae I've never met before?"

It was a question she'd asked many people in the last few months and had gotten an equally large number of replies ranging from: don't, to: use your networks to get an introduction that includes a basic biography of who's being introduced, to: just do what you'd do when meeting a human except more carefully.

"Ask people what brought them here. Or be blunt and ask what they'd most like to brag to you about. Nearly everyone has something they'd like to brag about. Or ask them what they're most curious about you." Leah shrugged as if keeping up social chit-chat were easy and nothing to be concerned about. Kara only wished she could be as blasé about it. "Go out and have an amazing time, because this is your coming out experience."

"My what?" Kara might have squeaked that question a bit.

Leah raised her eyebrows, but didn't otherwise comment. "Your debutant ball. You are coming out to society. So go out there."

"Okay, yeah, society, being part of it, yeah. I can do that."

"You are the future and they had better watch out."

"Yeah, yeah, fake it till I make it." That was some school advice that was still good and Kara had been doing that for years, when it came to knowing what she was dong as a werewolf.

Leah shook her head. "There is no making it. You'll never ever be done. Just keep doing what needs to be done and you'll find life gets easier even as the tasks get harder. But you will never be at a point where you have 'made it'. Not even Bran has 'made it'."

Bran was the Marrok and the head of all the werewolf packs in North America. He was pretty much the definition of having 'made it'. But, Kara realized, he was still working to get the werewolves and the fae to have some sort of working relationship. And at a thousand plus years old, he was still more single than Kara was, who at least had an escort, rather than an entourage. Kara was pretty sure she'd had more dates in the last few years than Bran had. And Kara was the one who was getting ready and getting advice from his ex-wife, while he was by himself in his own room.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked Leah. And even though she'd just blurted out the question again, and it was such a vague question, she could see Alexander's eyes sharpen just a bit. He was just as curious about that as she was.

Leah stood tall, with her chin raised and her eyes still resting on something too high to be Kara's face, and said. "Because I want to."

"What?"

The elevator had reached their floor, but Leah casually pressed the button to freeze it with doors shut.

"Because I can do whatever I want. As long as I accept the consequences. I can pick who I support and who I help and how I help them. I can do whatever I want." She paused, then added, "The real question here is, why are you doing all of this?"

And maybe that was the real question, because Leah looked perfectly at home dressed to the nines, while Kara still felt like a rural teenager playing dress up, with her lace and ribbons and hair all bound up as a weight on her head.

She shifted her stance a bit, to make the weight of her hair more balanced, and lowered her shoulders and raised her chin, because this might be her first real ball, but she knew enough about how to look good to carry it off.

"I'm here because I want to be here."

"Good. Then it's time for you and Alexander to head down. It's become of a bit of habit of mine, to throw you into the deep end, hasn't it? But you're prepared for this. And you'll do wonderfully."

"I will." Kara agreed.

The elevator doors opened.

Kara walked tall across the marble floor into the waiting ballroom, Alexander by her side. Leah veered off, likely to check in with the other hotel administration to ensure everything was going smoothly. This was her coming out ball, Kara reminded herself. She was the future and she was here.

Time to do this thing.


End file.
